Decision Time
by theHuntgoeson
Summary: Alex has to make a final choice between 2008 and 1981. An old friend shows her how whatever she decides will impact upon the lives of those she loves most in both her worlds.
1. Shooting

**I've been writing this one on and off for ages. I started it in June, then put it aside to write Stravagation and finish Candlelight, and now I'm finishing it in a tearing hurry to get it all posted before Series 2 starts and changes our perceptions. All this means that it might seem a little disjointed. As always, I would be so grateful to anyone who takes the time and trouble to let me know what they think. Not that you'll be able to form much opinion from this very short opening chapter, which is just a brief scene-setter. Chapter 2 will be up pronto. Bucketloads of angst on the way, and be warned - Chapters 3 and 4 will get very dark, hence the M rating.**

"Beer o'clock!"

For once, Alex was happy to put her papers away and depart for Luigi's with the rest, instead of waiting to finish something off, as she often did. It had been a good day, not a brilliant nor, thank Heaven, a particularly exciting one, but she had managed to get useful work done. All the same, there was no reason for her to stay at her desk any longer. Not when she could be spending her time drinking, arguing with Gene, and - if she let him get _really_ lucky - flirting with him.

CID foregathered on the pavement outside the restaurant, laughing, talking, waiting for the stragglers and shouting encouragement to Ray and Poirot as they puffed across the road. Alex glanced idly up the road and noticed a car approaching, surprisingly slowly. Her blood froze as she saw the gun barrel poking out of the passenger window. She had done a psychological profile on a drive-by killer in Brixton in 2007.

"GET DOWN, ALL OF YOU!" she screamed. Suddenly everything happened at once. Fortunately a row of cars was parked along the kerb outside Luigi's, and everyone ducked behind them as a hail of bullets howled over their heads. Alex, the first to see the gunman, was one of the last to take cover. She knew who the main target would be, and took two steps towards him. Gene threw her to the pavement, shielding her with his body as he had done when Gil Hollis attacked.

"Blimey, Bols, that was close," he gasped in her ear. "Got X-ray vision in addition to all your other 'idden talents?"

There was no reply. As the car screeched away, he raised his head and saw the bullet hole in her left temple, and the sound of Ray's answering gunfire mingled with the Manc Lion's roar of rage, grief and despair at what had been done to the woman he loved.

**TBC**


	2. Choice

**Thanks to everyone who's read Chapter 1, and especially to those who've reviewed it, brief though it is. This chapter's longer and gives more idea of where the story's going to go. Please continue to let me know what you think!**

Alex supposed that she should be frightened, but her only feeling was of being monumentally pissed off. She seemed to have been blundering along in this darkness for as long as she could remember, with no indication of where she should be going or what would happen if she ever got anywhere. Was this all that her afterlife would be? Walking in the dark forever?

She cast her mind back to the last thing she could remember before this unending blackness. _I was standing outside_ _Luigi's with the others...screaming a warning...gunfire...Gene pushing me down...a terrible pain in my forehead, just like when Layton shot me.... Then this darkness and nothing but the gut instinct that I've got to keep on walking. I've been shot in the head again. If that isn't enough to send me home, then what the hell is? _

As she fulminated to herself, she became aware of something a long way ahead. _Surely it's lighter up there?_ _Or at least less dark. Something different anyway. _She aimed herself towards whatever-it-was, and as she got closer it coalesced into a distinct patch of light. _Like a spotlight in The Weakest Link_, she thought wryly. _Is this a case of Drake, you are the weakest link, goodbye?_ Closer still, and she realised that someone was standing in the light. A man, with his back to her. _At least it isn't Anne Robinson._ Still strangely unafraid, she marched up to him, fully intending to punch him dateless if he didn't tell her what was going on. But as she approached, he turned to face her, holding out his hand with an open, friendly smile, and she fairly staggered at the sight of a face that she had never seen in life, but had seen often in a photograph on the front of a file and on an old press cutting.

"Alex Drake! I'm so pleased to meet you at last. We've never met before, and yet I feel I know you well."

"_Sam Tyler!_"

"That's me." He took her hand and shook it firmly._ He feels real enough. Just like all my constructs. But he _was _real..._

"But - but you're _dead_."

"I know," he said, still smiling.

"Does this mean that I'm dead too?"

"No. Oh, no. You're here because you're in a situation which even I never managed. You're in a coma in both your lives. In 2008 - " He gestured to the right, and a scene materialised out of the darkness. She saw herself lying unconscious in a hospital bed, her head swathed in bandages, an oxygen mask over her face. She was wired up to a drip feed, and a heart monitor bleeped away in the background. Molly and Evan sat by the bed, gazing at her intently. They looked as though they had been there so long that they had frozen into their places. Her heart tightened with longing at the sight of her daughter.

"And in 1981." Sam gestured to the left, and another image appeared. She lay in another, old-fashioned, hospital, in another bed. Her curls were spread over the pillow. Again there were bandages, a drip feed, the sound of a heart monitor, and an oxygen mask. Gene Hunt sat beside her, holding her hand, his heart in his eyes.

She turned back to Sam. "So, what now?" she snapped. "Am I stuck here between two times forever?"

"No, Alex," he said quietly. "You're here because this is a turning point for you. You have to choose between your two lives. You will wake up in one life and make a full recovery, but you will lose the other life forever."

"It isn't a choice," said Alex flatly. "I'm going home to Molly. That's what I've been trying to do all this time. Send me back to her now."

"Not yet, Alex," said Sam, still very quiet and calm. "Before you can decide, I have to show you what would happen, depending upon what you choose. That's why I've been sent here."

"Oh, I can see what's happening here. Look, Tyler, I know you're Gene Hunt's friend, and so you want me to go back to him. It won't work. I'm sorry for him, of course, but he's just my construct. Molly's real. Just as I am. Cut the cackle and send me home _now_."

"Alex, I can assure you that my friendship with Gene has no bearing on this," said Sam, with such dignity that she felt ashamed of herself. "It wasn't my idea to come here. I was selected for this mission because you and I both know what it is to have to choose between two worlds."

"You made your choice. I make mine. Send me home." She glanced desperately towards Molly. "She's so close that I can almost touch her. Have you any idea of how I feel, after all this time away from her, the sheer bloody _hunger_? If you had children, perhaps you'd understand - "

"What makes you think I haven't got kids?" The words flashed out like a thrown knife, and his voice was raw with pain. Alex flinched. _Gene said something like that to me once._

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You have."

"Two." Sam had himself under control again, but she felt how close he was to breaking down. "Danny and Samantha. Dan's five now and Sammy's two. I'm allowed to go and watch them and Annie sometimes. I can get right up close to them, but they never know I'm there. They never will. Nor does she."

"I'm sorry," Alex whispered again.

"You can afford to wait another hour, Alex," he said bitterly. "Then, if you choose to go back to Molly, you'll have all your lives. I won't."

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know."

"All right, I'll do as you say, although I can tell you now that it won't change my mind. But can you at least explain why all this performance is necessary?"

"You see, Alex, this isn't just about you. Whatever you decide will have an impact on the lives of the people you love most. I have to show you what will happen to them, depending upon when you live and when you die."

"Good God, what is this, _A Christmas Carol_ or _It's a Wonderful Life_?"

He grinned. "More like the Dickens, I think, though you're better looking than Ebenezer Scrooge and I hope you'll find me a more congenial companion than the Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come."

"Yes," said Alex, shuddering. She glanced towards Molly. "Back soon, darling." She turned to Sam. "Right, let's we get on with this. The sooner it's over, the sooner I can go home. What's first on the agenda?"

"First, I have to show you what will happen if you go back to 2008."

**TBC**


	3. Molly

**Thanks once again to everyone who's reading this, and especially to my faithful reviewers. This chapter is quite unlike anything I've tried to write before, so I would be especially grateful for feedback. Warning: this is where it starts getting VERY dark.**

_"Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or they shadows of the things that May be, only?" _

-Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

They were looking into the interior of a car. Alex watched herself, looking slightly older, driving and wrestling with the Sat-Nav - _some things haven't changed_ - and Molly, now a leggy teenager, sitting beside her. _Oh, my baby_, Alex thought with intense longing. _What a beauty she's going to become._

"This is the morning of 10 November, 2010," Sam murmured beside her.

Rain was streaming down the windscreen, so hard that Alex-in-the-car was having trouble seeing the road.

"Sorry I can't go any faster, darling," she said. "I'm afraid I'll make you late for school. But these conditions are so awful, I daren't risk it."

"No worries, Mum," said Molly comfortably. "Remember, everyone else will be in the same boat."

"_Boat_ is right, this morning," Alex-in-the-car laughed. "Fancy getting to school in a Noah's Ark? It might be quicker -"

Suddenly a lorry ahead of them skidded and turned sideways across the road. Alex-in-the-car slammed on the brakes, but the tyres had no purchase on the wet, greasy surface, and she and Molly screamed as the car ploughed into the side of the lorry. A shard of metal punctured the airbag. Another car piled into the back, sandwiching them in a mass of twisted metal and broken glass. The screaming stopped.

"Oh, God!" Alex cried. She tried to run forward, but Sam held her firmly by the shoulders. "Let me go! I have to get to Molly!"

"We can't do anything," said Sam, still holding her. "We aren't there."

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks, and he released her. They stood there, watching helplessly as the emergency services arrived, the Fire Brigade cut through the concertinaed car to extract the broken bodies, and paramedics lifted them gently onto gurneys. One of them bent over Alex-from-the-car and shouted, "This one's alive!"

_"This one?"_ Alex moaned. _"Molly -"_

A paramedic attending to Molly looked up and said, "No chance with this one. Neck broken. Poor kid. It must have happened when the Toyota crashed into the rear. Time of death, nine twenty-"

_"NOOOOOOOO!"_ Alex screamed. _"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

The nightmare image faded, and she and Sam stood in the darkness again. If he had not put an arm around her, she would have fallen.

"Tell me it isn't true!" she sobbed. "Tell me I didn't kill my daughter!"

"You didn't kill her," said Sam gently."It was an accident. Nobody was to blame. It hasn't happened yet. If you are there, it will happen, in that time, in that place. Molly will die. But you will survive."

"I don't want to!" Alex moaned. "Not if she's dead!"

They were standing in Alex's living room. It was a dull day, and little light penetrated into the room. Everything seemed leached of colour. It was full of greyness and shadows. A house of mourning.

Alex caught sight of herself, resting in what she thought was a high-winged armchair. Then the chair glided forward, and she realised with horror that her older self was sitting in a motorised wheelchair, her head supported by a brace. She seemed to have no mobility at all, except in her head and neck, and she was moving her head to control the direction of the wheelchair.

"10 November, 2012," Sam murmured.

"How much longer must I go on like this, Evan?" Alex-in-the-wheelchair's voice was a rasp of bitterness and pain.

Alex had not noticed Evan, sitting in an armchair, his hands folded, trying to appear relaxed but obviously ill at ease.

"The doctors are very pleased with your progress -"

"The _truth_, Evan!" Alex-in-the-wheelchair's voice snapped out like the cut of a whip. "It's not going to get any better than this, is it? I'm paralysed. My body's immobile. It's two years today since the crash. My condition's deteriorating, and it can only get worse. I'm paying strangers to give me round-the-clock care." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "There are times I'm even glad Molly's dead. She would have felt obliged to give up her life to look after me." She broke into racking sobs. "I killed my own daughter, and I'm glad she's dead!"

Instantly Evan was at her side, drying the tears she could not wipe away.

"You didn't kill her, Alex. It was an accident."

"I was at the wheel!" Alex-in-the-wheelchair wailed. "Maybe that's why I've been punished like this."

"It was an accident," Evan repeated, putting his arms around her and stroking her hair. "The inquest established that. The lorry's steering was defective. The road surface was slippery with rain and neither you nor the driver of the car behind you had room to brake. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't anyone's fault. You must stop blaming yourself."

"I know, I know," Alex-in-the-wheelchair sighed, her sobs quietening. "I'm sorry, Evan. I called you to come here today because I need to ask you to do something for me, and all I do is rant at you."

"Don't worry," said Evan, trying to smile as he held a cup of tea to her lips. "All part of the service."

Alex-in-the wheelchair took a few sips. "That's enough, thanks, Evan. Sit down, please. I need to talk to you very seriously."

Evan put the cup down and sat opposite her, leaning forward. "What's all this about?"

Alex-in-the-wheelchair hesitated a moment. "I know there are places on the Continent - in Switzerland - where one can go - to - to end one's life. I want you to arrange it for me."

"Alex! You can't be serious!"

"I was never more serious in my life."

"Alex, I know it's been terrible for you since the crash, but think what you still have. Your mind is unimpaired, you can still work -"

"My mind is unimpaired, so I know how much I've lost. I know there's no hope of improvement, I know things can only get worse. This isn't a spur of the moment decision, I've been thinking about it for a long time. Evan, please. You're the only person I can ask to do this for me."

"I'm sorry, Alex, but I can't." Evan's face was stern. "I must ask you never to raise this subject again."

"Why? Because you're a lawyer and you're afraid it would harm you professionally?"

"First, because you're asking me to do something which, in this country, is a criminal offence. Second, because I've always loved you like my own daughter, and I just can't do it, Alex, I can't. Let me ask you an equally difficult question. Would you have done this for Molly if she had been paralysed?"

"Molly would have had me. You're the only one left who'll look out for me, and you're not getting any younger. That's why I need to ask you to do this for me, while you're still here to ask."

"I'm sorry, Alex, but the answer is no."

"Why _not?_" Alex-in-the-wheelchair's voice rose to a howl. "Sam Tyler killed himself. My own father killed himself. Why can't I be allowed to kill myself?"

Evan went pale. "How did you know about Tim?"

"Never mind how I know. You don't know what I gave up to come back here after I was shot - the love I lost -"

"What are you talking about?"

"I should have died then. I should have killed myself before the crash. At least Molly would still have been alive, even if my death left her on her own. Why won't you help me?"

"No. Don't ask me again, Alex. The answer will be the same. No." Evan jumped to his feet and ran from the room, banging the door behind him. Alex-in-the-wheelchair tried to follow him, but the wheelchair caught against his armchair and stalled.

"_EVAN!_"

The image faded, and Alex and Sam were in the darkness again. Alex sank to her knees, hugging herself and shivering.

"Dear God above us," she whispered. "I thought it couldn't get any worse than what happened to Molly - but this…"

Then doubts crept in again. _Sam is Gene's friend. Is he trying to trick me into choosing 1981? Might something even worse happen to Molly if I don't go back to 2008? _Still shaking, she dragged herself to her feet.

"So, what happens to Molly if I don't go back to her? If I die in 2008?"

They were looking into the interior of another car, with Robert, Alex's ex-husband, at the wheel, and Molly sitting beside him. The rain was beating at the windscreen.

"This is 10 November, 2010," said Sam. "You died more than two years ago. Molly is living with Robert and Judy now. Evan helps out, of course. He's just as invaluable to them as he always was to you."

"Sorry the Weather Clerk couldn't organise anything better for the day of your netball match," Robert was saying. "Just after we'd got you a new kit for it, too."

"Never mind," said Molly. "If it's still wet this afternoon, we'll hold it in the gym."

"Will that make any difference to the time I come to collect you?"

"No, we'll still finish at four."

"Right on, treasure. I'll be there."

"One good thing to have come out of your death is that Robert has at last turned into a responsible father," Sam said softly.

The car drew up to the school gates and Molly grabbed her satchel, her kitbag, her lunchbox and an umbrella, and jumped out of the car.

"Good luck, Mols! May your team win!" Robert called after her as she hurtled inside. He watched until she was out of sight, and drove away.

The vision faded.

"No crash," said Alex numbly.

"No," Sam replied. "Robert lives at the other end of London. He drove Molly to school by a completely different route. They didn't go anywhere near the site of the crash."

"So - if I go back to Molly, she'll die and I'll be left a cripple. If I don't -"

"If you don't, she will live past that day. She will have the chance to grow up, to grow old."

"What will happen to her? What will her future be like?"

"That is something I can't show you, because it will be entirely up to Molly. But you know her. She's strong and clever, like you, and she will have Robert and Judy and Evan behind her. The world will be hers for the taking. Just as it was for you at her age."

Alex nodded slowly and painfully, acknowledging the truth of that.

"So, what will happen if I go back to 1981?"

"First, I have to show you what will happen if you _don't_ go back."

**TBC**


	4. Gene

**I should of course have made it clear in the preambles to the first three chapters - BBC, Kudos and Monastic own Ashes to Ashes and all the characters. Lucky things. I own nothing but my ideas.**

**Thanks again to everyone who has read this, and especially those who gave me such encouraging reviews for Chapter 3, which is such strong stuff that I hesitated about posting it! No let-up in the angst yet I'm afraid...**

**Please keep those reviews coming in!**

"_We have no power to help him now…_

_In the black moment_

_When your friend suffers_

_Unearthly torment_

_We cannot turn our backs._

_When horror breaks one heart_

_All hearts are broken._

_We shall be there with him."_

Montagu Slater - libretto for _Peter Grimes_, opera by Benjamin Britten

They were standing in Gene's office. She noticed a calendar for 1983 on the noticeboard. Below the newspaper cutting about Sam's death was a second cutting with her photograph and the headline

MET'S FIRST FEMALE INSPECTOR SHOT DEAD:

DISTRAUGHT SUPERIOR OFFICER PAYS TRIBUTE TO "OUTSTANDING COPPER"

For a terrible second, she thought that the figure hunched over the desk was not Gene. Then it raised its head. It was him, but she could barely recognise the fine, strong, powerful man she knew in the paunchy, bleary, drink-sodden wreck before her. His jowly face was graven with lines of hopeless grief.

"Gene! What are you doing?" She leaned over the desk, shouting at him as she had so many times before. "You've given up on yourself! This isn't you. You told me you would be out there making a difference until the last second!" She slammed the palms of her hands on the desk, but he took no notice.

"He can't see you or hear you," said Sam quietly. "You're dead. Like me."

Alex turned to him, tears streaming down her face. "What's happened to him?"

"His life has been worthless to him since the woman he loved died saving it," Sam replied sadly. "Thanks to you he'd managed to move past my death, but with yours he lost all hope. It's been all too easy for him to slide into a downward spiral of alcohol and despair."

"I didn't realise that he loved me so much," she sobbed, staring at the bowed figure. Sam said nothing, only looked at her.

"No. I did realise," she whispered. "I just didn't want to know. I loved him, but I wouldn't admit it, even to myself. I wanted to go home and I didn't want anything to get in my way."

Gene poured out a tumbler of whisky and gazed at a large photograph of Alex on the desk.

"I failed y'Alex. Forgive me," he slurred, and downed the whisky in one gulp.

"No, Gene, no, it wasn't your fault," Alex wept. "You can't blame yourself."

"But he does," said Sam. "He can't bear the guilt of being alive when you aren't."

As Gene was pouring out more whisky, there was a knock at the door and he guiltily hid the bottle and glass. _He never used to do that_, Alex thought. _He knows he's drinking too much._

"Come in!" he barked, his voice harsh with too much drink. The door opened, and Ray came in with a sheaf of paperwork. He tactfully took no notice as Gene hurried the bottle and glass out of sight.

"Ray! You've known him longer than anyone else," said Alex, going up to him. "Can't you say something to him? He might listen to you." But Ray walked past her as though she wasn't there - _and I'm not_ - put the papers on Gene's desk, and started explaining something to him.

"Ray's the DI now," said Sam. "He's not very good, but he and Gene know each other, and that helps them both. But he can't save Gene from himself. The only person who might have done that died two years ago."

She saw a tiny spark of Gene's old fire as he questioned something in the paperwork, but it was not enough to reignite the ruin of a man that he had become.

"Of course the team try to cover up for his mistakes," said Sam, "but they don't always succeed. Another year and he'll be on the verge of dismissal for drunkenness. Then -"

They were standing in an underground car park. Gene and Chris were crouched behind a car, guns pointing at a small van. Ray and another man whom she did not know - presumably the new DS - fanned out on either side, shielded behind concrete pillars.

"Bank raider," Sam explained. "He's cornered, vicious and desperate."

"You're surrounded by armed bastards! Drop your gun and come out with your hands up!" Gene yelled.

The back of the van flew open, and a man in a balaclava jumped out, holding a terrified blonde girl, his gun pressed against her temple.

"Bank cashier," said Sam softly.

_Oh, no_, thought Alex. _Gene, Ray and Chris were always shit at hostage negotiation. Unless the new DS is brilliant, they're in trouble_.

"Drop your guns or she gets it!" the raider barked.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Gene roared. Motioning to Chris to stay down and give him cover, he cautiously stood up, placed his gun on the car bonnet, and put his hands in the air.

"Okay, okay. I'm not goin' to shoot. I've put my gun down, see? I just want to talk to you."

"Well, well, well," the raider sneered. "If it isn't Hunt the Drunk. Hunt the Soak. Did you know that that's what they call you?"

_He's trying to make you angry_, thought Alex. _Don't let him. It'll affect your judgement_. But Gene appeared to be sober, concentrated on the task in hand.

"I've been called a lot of things in my time, and a lot of 'em I've deserved," he said levelly. "Those two among 'em."

"So what have you got to say that you think I'll want to hear?" the raider snapped.

"I'm askin' you to let 'er go."

"Oh, _asking_, are we? Why the hell should I do as you _ask_? Fuck yourself, copper filth. I'm _asking_ you to let me drive away or I blow her head off - NOW!" He pressed the muzzle of the gun harder into her forehead, and she moaned.

Gene stood his ground. "I'm askin' you because she shouldn't be mixed up in this. You're robbin' scum to me, I'm copper filth to you, she's just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong bloody time. She's got 'er life to live. Out there are people who love an' need 'er, just as she loves an' needs them. All their lives'll be destroyed if you get trigger 'appy. I know what I'm sayin'. I lost the woman I love to a gunman. That made me what I am now. You get 'old of a gun, it makes you feel powerful, but you don't know the 'arm you do. You don't want to know. So I'm sayin' again, let 'er go."

_Be careful, Gene. So careful. You're making him angry_. All the same, Alex was impressed. _Gene always used to go in with all guns blazing. Perhaps his grief over me has taught him something. At least he's trying to negotiate. If only he could stay off the drink now, he might save himself._

As Gene spoke, out of the corner of her eye she could see Ray cautiously edging around behind the van. _One speaks, the other acts. Keep him talking until Ray gets to her._

"I'm telling you, copper!" the raider snarled. "Let me drive away or you collect her stiff!"

Gene heaved a sigh, stepped out from behind the car, and held out his hand. "Give me the gun."

The raider chuckled, tightened his grip on the girl's throat and slowly swung the gun around until it pointed at Gene's chest. Ray, who had nearly reached the girl, froze.

"Here it is, Hunt the Drunk. Care to take it bullet first?"

"Oh, God, no..." Alex whispered. Beside her, Sam was absolutely still.

Gene stopped for a moment, then stepped forward. "You won't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because if you kill an unarmed police officer who's negotiatin' with you, you won't see the stars above your 'ead again 'til your 'air's grey. What you'd get for blaggin' a bank's a fuckin' tea party compared wi' that. An' if you do, it won't matter to me. I know me career's over, an' the people I love most are dead." A look of intense sadness crossed his face. "Maybe I'd see 'er again. An' Sam. So come on, gimme the gun." He took one more step forward. The DS was edging in on the other side now, but dared not move while Gene was held at gunpoint, and neither he nor Ray could get a clear shot at the raider with the girl in the way. Nor could Chris, who was marooned behind the car with Gene between him and the raider.

"One more chance, filth!" the raider shouted. "Back off!"

Gene shook his head. "I told you, I've already lost one woman to a gunman. I'm sure as 'ell not losin' another."

The raider seemed to consider for a moment. "Maybe you're right, Drunk. Maybe I shouldn't shoot a copper. But I can still shoot her!" As he spoke, he swung his gun around to the girl, and came face to face with Ray as he reached out to seize her arm.

Gene threw himself forward, the Lion once more, snarling with rage. The raider swung his gun back to centre and fired, just before the DS knocked him unconscious with his pistol butt and Ray dragged the girl clear. Gene reeled back, clutching his chest, blood spurting between his fingers. Suddenly everything was absolutely silent.

"Alex - " he whispered, and fell backwards like a stricken oak.

"Guv, Guv!" Chris was at his side almost as soon as he hit the ground, and started giving him CPR. Alex and Sam rushed to him and Alex sank to her knees beside the fallen figure, just as Ray reached the group.

"It's no use, Chris," he said heavily, putting his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "He's gone."

"But - but the Guv can't - just - die - like that," Chris gulped. "Can he?"

They all looked down at Gene. The blue eyes were wide open and the ravaged face oddly peaceful. It was as if the whole world had stopped instead of just that one great heart.

Alex flung herself, sobbing, over his body. She thought her grief would tear her in two. "Oh, Gene, Gene, why do you do that? It was suicidal - "

"Of course it was," said Sam bleakly. "You heard what he said. He had nothing left to live for. At least he died redeeming himself. He gave his life to save those of a hostage and a colleague. Ray and the girl will have to live with that. It's not the time to grieve for him now, Alex. He really died when you did, three years ago. He'd only existed since then."

_He died like this because I abandoned him. I owed him my life, and I destroyed him. _

"No!" Alex heard herself screaming. "No! It mustn't be like this!"

**TBC**


	5. Decision

**Disclaimer: BBC, Monastic and Kudos own Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes. I wish I did.**

**Apologies to my readers for keeping you waiting for this update. Blame last week's site glitch - while I was waiting for it to clear, I got an idea for an additional section to this chapter, so there was a delay while I typed it out. I then decided against including it, but I did make some other amendments. Anyway, here it is - and Alex has to make her mind up at last. **

**Thanks so much to everyone who's reading and reviewing, please keep the reviews coming in!**

She and Sam were back in the darkness again, standing between the two visions of herself in hospital.

"It needn't be like this," said Sam gently. "You know that. You were brought here to choose."

"It isn't a choice at all, is it?" said Alex savagely. "The only way to save the three of us is to lose my little girl forever."

"No," Sam said quietly. "You can still decide to go back to 2008 and see Molly again. To decide when you're back there that all this was part of your hallucination while you were in your coma, and that you don't give a tuppenny damn what happens to one of your constructs from the 1980s. You can regard this as a warning and use it to try to avert what will happen in 2010."

"Oh, God..."

"You don't even know if you can trust me. Trust any of this. I might be tricking you."

"Are you?"

"I'm afraid only you can decide that."

Alex stood directly in front of Sam and looked deep into his eyes, absorbing his steady gaze until she almost drowned in it.

"No," she said at last. "No. I know what you're telling and showing me is true. Even though I don't want it to be."

"How do you know?"

"Because - " Alex swallowed. "Because one of the last things I said to Molly was about you. She'd been reading your file and asked me about you. I told her, "He was a decent man and he was a good copper." I've met you, and I know that's true. I know that you won't lie to me. That what you've shown me will happen in both times, if I go home."

"Yes. It will."

"Even if I didn't trust you, how could you possibly think that I'd take such a risk with all our lives?"

"Believe me," Sam said sadly, "there are times when I feel that if I was offered the chance to go back to Annie and the children, even if it might put them in danger, I'd take it. But then I know that I could never do such a thing. That's why I understand what you're going through."

Alex was silent for a moment, thinking it through. "Since I went to 1981, I've believed a lot in destiny. I thought it was my destiny to save my parents, but I had to learn that I couldn't change the past. If I went home, I'd be able to hold my little girl in my arms again, to smell her, kiss her, hear her voice, feel her eyelashes tickling my face - " She stopped, unable to speak for a moment, and wiped away her tears. "You know how much I want that. But now I know what the price for it would be, and that all three of us would pay it. I could try to change the future. I could refuse to take Molly to school that day. I could ask Evan to take her. I could go by a different route. But I know that it would be the same as when I tried to save my parents. However I try to avoid it, I'd end up driving Molly down that road, towards the crash, and there would be nothing I could do about it."

"No. There wouldn't."

"And - " she added painfully, "and all the time I'd know that what I left behind was true as well. That the man I love destroyed himself because of me."

"Now you know why I had to show you what would happen if you went back to 2008. Your life and the lives of the two people you love most depend upon what you decide. And you know what you would have chosen if I hadn't shown you."

"I'd have chosen to go home. The obvious choice. It would have destroyed us all. But why does it have to be like this?" The last words were torn from her lips in a scream of pain.

"I'm afraid that's something I can't answer. I know you won't be able to think of it this way right now, but you've been lucky that you've been able to choose. So have they."

"I know," Alex muttered sullenly. "So, what now?"

"You still have to decide."

"But you haven't shown me all my choices yet. You haven't told me what will happen if I go back to - to 1981." She couldn't bear to say Gene's name. He would take her away from Molly.

"That, again, I can't show you."

"Why not?" Alex snapped.

"You see, Alex, not everything is predestined. Some events are, like the crash in 2010. But so much more depends upon the actions of individuals. If you go back to Gene, I can't guarantee you an automatically happy ending, because what you make of your life together would be entirely up to the two of you. You'd argue constantly, of course, because you both thrive on conflict. That's what attracts you to each other. But you love each other, and that would sustain you through everything. You'd have a very good chance of lasting happiness, marriage, children - "

Alex looked up. "Children?"

"Why not?"

She took a deep breath. "I'll go back to him. To Gene."

"Have you decided that because of Molly? Because of Gene? Because you might have more children if you go back to him?"

"All of them," she admitted.

"Be very careful, Alex. Don't go back to Gene unless you can value him for himself as well as for what he might be able to give you. It wouldn't be fair on either of you to do anything else."

"I'm doing this for all our sakes. Because, like him, I must go where I'm needed. Because I'm forced to put the man I love before my daughter," she added bitterly.

"You aren't," said Sam gently. "You're putting your daughter's future before your own desire to see her again. By doing that, you've saved the lives of the two people you love most as well as your own."

Alex nodded slowly.

Sam gripped her shoulders. "Look at me, Alex," he said urgently. "You must never, _never_ blame Gene for the choice you've had to make. He knows nothing about it: how could he? If you do, then bitterness and resentment will wreck your life together and destroy both of you. Promise me that you won't."

"I promise."

"He's a good man. Impossible, as I'd be the first to admit - no, the second, you'd be the first. But good. You've read my reports, so you'll know that he hasn't had much happiness in his life. A wretched childhood, an abusive father, his brother's death, and the failure of a marriage which had been a sham for years before it ended. He's always been lonely - except when you or I were with him."

"He admitted to me once that he was lonely," said Alex softly. "Sometimes, he said."

"Not just sometimes. Always. He let his guard down so much, to be able to say that to you."

"Yes. I didn't appreciate that enough at the time. Now I - value it more than I can say."

"He deserves whatever happiness you feel able to give him. He finds it so hard to say what he feels, but you know that he loves you, and he'll do everything he can to make you happy."

"I know. I'll try to do the same for him."

"Thank you for that, Alex. I'm entrusting my best friend to you, and I know you won't let either of us, or yourself, down. You're both flawed, damaged, fascinating people - and fascinated by each other. Together, you'll both have the chance for a fresh start in life."

"A chance for us both to get it right this time," said Alex thoughtfully.

"Yes. Together, you could reach for the stars."

Sam looked infinitely sad, and amid her own anguish, Alex felt a pang of sorrow for him. Unless some unwished-for tragedy overtook his family, he would be lonely in his afterlife for many years to come.

"There's more than one reason why you've just made the right decision," he continued. "You and he were always destined for one another, even though you were born so many years apart. Just like Annie and me. That was why you were sent to him when you went back in time."

"Do you mean that I had to be shot in the head to meet my destiny?"

"Remember I had to be hit by a car and jump off a roof to meet mine! But, Alex, didn't you ever think, especially after your parents died, that there was some deeper purpose in your coming to him after you were shot? That of all the people alive in the world at that time, you were sent into the care of the man who guarded you as a child, and has guarded you as a woman ever since you came to him?"

"My guardian angel," said Alex softly. "Just as Shaz says that I'm hers. Right now, you're his guardian angel, and mine and Molly's too. You've saved all of us. But how real is all this? I thought that Gene and the others were my constructs. That I'd imagined them all while I was in my coma, because I'd read your descriptions of your adventures in 1973. Now I don't know whether my life in 1981 is real or fantasy. All I know is that I've never known anyone as real as Gene in my entire life. "

"He's as real as you want him to be. Just like everything in your life in 1981."

"What sort of answer is that for a psychological profiler?"

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Alex, than are dreamt of in your psychology. Or psychiatry, as Gene would say. If you want this, then accept it and don't ask questions. I didn't, once I'd made my choice to go back to 1973."

"If I can't have my Molly, then I must have Gene. If he isn't real, I won't be real either. Just so long as we're together."

"That's right. Are you ready to leave, then?"

"Can't I say goodbye to Molly?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that."

"She'll never know why I abandoned her," Alex whispered.

"She won't think that. She won't know that you had any choice, or that you've saved her life by choosing to die in 2008. All she'll know is that you died of a gunshot wound received in the line of duty. She'll always love you and remember you and miss you."

He took her gently by the shoulders and turned her to face the vision on the right. As she looked at her daughter for the last time, Alex began to cry uncontrollably. "Oh, my little baby girl, goodbye, goodbye..."

Suddenly the bleep of the heart monitor was replaced by a harsh buzz.

"Mummy! Mummy!" Molly cried, and Evan shouted hoarsely for the nurse. They clung together desperately as hospital staff poured into the room. The scene faded into blackness.

Alex turned away and slumped to her knees. She cried until she thought she must have shed all the tears in the world. Then she cried some more, and still more. Sam knelt beside her, his hands folded in his lap, watching her but not touching her, allowing her the comfort of his presence and the courtesy of his silence. At first she was grateful for that, but as her tears slowed and complete desolation engulfed her, she missed the contact of another person. _Gene wouldn't let me cry alone. He'd hold me and comfort me. _Suddenly she was filled with a desperate longing to hear his gruff voice and feel his arms around her, holding her close to his beating heart, giving her strength, keeping her safe. _Just as he did when I was a child, the day my parents died, and when we both thought we would die in the vault at Edgehampton. _

In that dark place between the past and the future, words swam into her mind, written long ago by a Russian poet about another, very different Eugene: _"I only know that God has sent you to guard and love me till I die." _

_Yes. Sam has just told me that Gene is my destiny, and that I am his. I still have a life to live with him. I'm ready to go back to him._

"Take me to Gene," she said wearily, scrubbing the last remnants of the tears from her aching eyes. "He's all I have now."

Sam helped her to stand. "Close your eyes, and when you wake up, you will be with him. After that, it'll be up to you."

"Then this is goodbye, Sam. I want to thank you. I know I didn't make this easy for you, but you saved me from making the wrong choice. Is there anything I can do for you in return?"

He smiled ruefully. "Not much the living can do for the dead, I'm afraid."

"Couldn't I at least give Gene your best?"

"He'd only think you're madder than he does already, or that it's the after-effects of the coma."

"Yeah, I think it's called concussion," Alex quoted with a watery smile, trying to imitate Gene's voice. "All right, I won't. But I'll always remember what you've done for me, and I'll always be grateful."

"If you have a son, will you call him Sam? Then I'll feel that I'm still in the world, in a way."

"You are, Sam. You live on in your children and in their and Annie's love for you," said Alex warmly. "And in the memories of everyone else who knew you and loved you."

"Thank you for saying that. It means a lot." Sam swallowed hard, deeply moved.

"But I'm sure Gene would want to name a son of his, of ours, after you anyway," Alex went on. "Sam Tyler Hunt. Or Drake. If it's a girl, Samantha Caroline Annie."

"Deal." He managed that old, engaging grin, and they shook hands. "Now, close your eyes."

Alex obeyed.

**TBC **

**A/N: The poetry quotation comes from Alexander Pushkin's **_**"Eugene Onegin"**_**. The translation is by David Lloyd-Jones, for the libretto of Tchaikovsky's opera based on the poem.**


	6. Vigil

**Disclaimer: BBC, Monastic and Kudos own Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes. Not me, unfortunately.**

**Thanks once again to all readers and reviewers! Sorry for the delay in posting this, I had to give priority to a couple of music reviews with short deadlines. Real life getting in the way again…**

**More angst now, but of a different sort.**

It had been a team effort.

Chris, already halfway down the restaurant stairs when the shooting started, had bellowed to Luigi to call an ambulance before the last shots had even died away, and it had arrived within minutes. Shaz and the distraught Gene had administered CPR until the paramedics took over. Ray, crouched to one side of the main group, had drawn his pistol and shot out the rear tyres and rear window of the gunman's car. It had swerved and crashed into a lamppost, and as the gunman and his driver dazedly tried to climb out of the wreckage, they were overwhelmed by a tide of yelling, raging cops. CID had just seen one of their own gunned down, and they knew no mercy. By the time the bruised and battered suspects had been hauled into the Fenchurch East interview room to be questioned by a grim-faced Ray, they were falling over themselves to confess.

It was the Cales' hitman.

He had gone to ground following his employers' arrest. Chaz had died in prison, and Joan was out for revenge on the team who had put him there. She had arranged the whole operation from prison, making coded phone calls to one of Chaz's old contacts. Now Joan, the hitman and the driver all awaited trial, and they were expected to go down for a long time. Questions were being asked in high places about the security of Her Majesty's prisons, when an inmate could organise a hit while behind bars. The governer of Joan's prison had been suspended pending an investigation. Normally Gene would have relished all this, but now he was lost to everything except the woman who lay unmoving on a hospital bed, in a deep coma.

He never left her side.

Chris and Shaz, arguing in relays, had tried to persuade him to go home and get a few hours' desperately needed sleep while they kept watch, but he refused, and when they persisted he said, quite gently, "I know you both mean well, but I can't leave 'er, y'see? What if she wakes up while I'm gone and asks for me?" They knew better than to try again.

He was on compassionate leave.

It was understood that the possibility of losing a second DI, so soon after Sam Tyler's tragic death, had completely unnerved him. Under normal circumstances the hospital would not have allowed him to remain with her around the clock because they were not related, but he had represented that she had no family, and that he was not only her superior officer but also the only close friend she had, and he had been allowed to stay.

He talked to her incessantly.

He remembered what Sam had said about the importance of trying to communicate with coma patients, and he spoke to her about cases they had solved together, their quarrels and disagreements, their successes and failures, their endless discussions at Luigi's, the weather, anything he could think of. Everyone else in CID helped, of course, taking it in turns to drop in to talk to her while the exhausted Gene dozed in a chair beside the bed. Shaz, especially, did sterling service, chattering away for hours at a time while Gene rested. Luigi called in regularly with supplies of food for Gene, and would sit talking to Alex for half an hour or so. Chris donated his Walkman and spent hours copying her favourite LPs onto tapes so that, during the night, Gene could put the earphones over her head, switch the Walkman on, and leave it to play while he snatched a few moments' sleep.

He could not bring her the one person whose voice might reach her.

Alex had often mentioned a daughter, but Gene knew nothing about her, not even whether her surname was Drake, much less where she lived or who was looking after her in Alex's absence. Alex had been vague whenever the subject came up. Gene asked Shaz to look up Alex's personnel record in case it held any clues, but there was nothing, not even contact details for next of kin. After her coma had lasted for five days, Gene was desperate enough to swallow his pride and ask Shaz to ring Evan's office to find out if he knew anything.

The following morning, Evan visited the hospital. When he arrived Gene was asleep, leaving Chris to keep watch and talk to Alex. Motioning to Chris not to disturb Gene, Evan took a spare chair and sat quietly talking to Alex until Gene awakened. Chris glanced nervously from one man to the other, but Gene nodded to Evan to continue. After a few minutes, Evan said goodbye to Alex and rose from his chair. Gene also rose, shook his hand, and said gruffly, "Thanks for coming, White."

They moved away out of earshot of Chris. "I got your message. I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help you at all," said Evan. " I remember her mentioning a daughter, but I don't know anything at all about her. Why did you think that I would know?"

"You and she appear to be close," said Gene awkwardly. "I thought she might 'ave told you."

"I think you overestimate the closeness of our relationship," Evan replied quietly. "She seems to look on me as a father figure or a favourite uncle. She comes to me when she wants advice or when she wants to discuss something that's troubling her. We had dinner once, but that was all. Believe me, Hunt, it's you she needs now, not me."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Look, I don't like saying this, and it isn't easy for me, but this isn't the time for petty rivalries, what matters is Alex. It's true, I could have wished to get closer to her, but she hasn't wanted that. Especially since the Prices died. She thinks more of you than you know. I think that, if anyone is going to get her out if this, it'll be you. It's good that you're here for her. But if there's any other way I can help, please let me know."

Gene muttered something unintelligible, they shook hands again, and Evan left. Gene walked back to Alex's bed, his mind whirling. Never in his life had he thought that he might actually want Evan White to be right about something. _Could_ he be right? Or was the smarmy git trying to be tactful? _Come on, Gene, that's not fair,_ his weary mind told him. _You asked him for his help and he took the time and the trouble to come here. He didn't have to do that. _

As he neared the bed, Chris, not noticing his approach, was talking softly to Alex.

"Come on, Ma'am, it's not like you to give up. Don't you remember when you came to see Shaz here? Fight, Shaz, you told her, and she did. So should you."

_Poor Chris_, Gene thought, _this is tough for him too. It brings it all back to him, that time when we thought we were going to lose Shaz. If it hadn't been for Bolly, we would have done._ But he froze at Chris's next words.

"The Guv's breaking his heart over you, you know. None of us have ever seen him like this. Not even Ray, and he's known him longest. You've got to wake up for him. He needs you, and we all know how you feel about him."

"What do all of you know?"

Fatigue made his voice sound even sterner than he had intended, and Chris jumped like a startled rabbit.

"Oh, er, sorry, Guv. I didn't know you were there -"

"I don't 'ave to be Brain of Britain to work that one out, and you 'aven't answered my question."

"Er, well, Guv, Shaz says - er, she says that the way the Boss looks at you, and the way she looks when she's talking about you, it's obvious that she's, er, she's -"

_"What?"_

"Er, crazy - about you, Guv, that is, er -"

"That'll do. I asked for an answer, not bloody _War and Peace_. You can trot along to the station now. I'll take the next shift. And - thanks, Chris."

Chris made his escape, blushing like a girl and feeling grateful not to have been torn limb from limb. Gene sank into the chair by the bed and began talking, his mouth on auto-pilot while he struggled to marshal his thoughts.

_Could_ it be true that Alex felt something for him? Could the man he despised, a man with the IQ of a mentally deficient hedgehog, and a lobotomised Essex girl all have noticed something that the great Gene Genie had failed to see? Of course she had flirted with him outrageously, and on one memorable occasion had thrown herself at him when she was so drunk that his sense of chivalry had made him turn her down. He had known then, and since, that he had done the right thing, much though he had subsequently regretted it during many wakeful, lonely nights. But whenever he had made her so much as a tentative offer she had made it clear - or so he thought - that she had no interest in him. _Women. Always was baffled by them. Does that mean I should have taken a no as a yes, and risked copping her left hook again? _ What signs had he missed that the others had seen? He desperately needed to think this through clearly, but he was all too aware that his mind was fogged with exhaustion. He had been surviving on catnaps since the shooting six days ago.

"Signor Hunt?"

He looked up. "Luigi! The very man."

Luigi looked towards the bed. "There is no change?"

"I'm afraid not, not yet. Thanks for comin'."

"Think nothing of it, Signor Hunt. I have brought you your food for the day."

"Thanks. What's the damage?"

"Don't think about that now. I'll add it to your tab, and you can settle up later. When she is well."

"Thanks, Luigi, I won't forget this. Tell me, 'ow come you can spend so much time 'ere when you 'ave a restaurant to run?"

Luigi smiled. "We do not open until eleven, and the staff know how to prepare the restaurant for the day without my presence. The important thing is that I am there to greet the diners when they arrive and see to their wishes. Just as I have done so many times when you and the beautiful Signora Drake have sat at your corner table." He lowered his voice. "I know that she will sit there with you again. You must not give up hope, Signor Hunt. She needs you."

"Christ, you're the third person to say somethin' like that to me in the past 'alf hour! What is it with the lot of you?"

Luigi smiled again. "Maybe we can all see a truth that you have not yet faced, perhaps because you have not wished to, perhaps because you have not dared."

"Luigi, 'ave mercy on a man who's forgotten what 'is own bed looks like and spit it out!"

The older man looked down at the younger. "The two of you are so like one another. Both stubborn, proud, strong, vulnerable, unable to speak for fear of appearing to be weak or of being hurt. Yet I believe that if you were lying here and she were watching over you, she would have told you by now what she feels for you, in the hope that you would hear her and come back to her."

"What she - ?"

"Is that not what others have been telling you? Maybe you need to awaken to the truth in her heart and in your own, before you can awaken her. None of your colleagues will tell you because they fear your anger and your ridicule, but the worst that you can do to me is to stop coming to my restaurant. Tell her what is in your heart. Perhaps she will hear you and come back to you. "

Gene looked away uncomfortably. "Yeah, thanks. I'll think about that."

"Perhaps I have spoken out of turn. Pardon me. I'll speak to her while you eat your breakfast."

Gene began to eat while Luigi sat and talked to Alex, letting the Italian's gentle, lilting voice lull him. Afterwards he could not have named a single thing that he ate. After Luigi left, Gene rambled away without sense or connection, until Ray arrived to take over for an hour at lunchtime.

Ray was as committed to this as anyone. He had interviewed the hitman and driver, and Chris had told Gene in awestruck tones of how it had taken four men, one of them himself, to stop Ray from beating up the pair of them in their cells. What had brought Ray to his senses, in the end, was Chris's reminder that evidence of a beating while in custody might reduce their chances of conviction. Ray had never particularly liked Alex, but she was one of the team, and he would see the suspects sent down if it was the last thing he did. He also knew that if his actions resulted in their going free, Gene would slaughter him. He was happy to take part in CID's informal rota to visit the hospital and talk to Alex, but he was an unimaginative soul and had never really known what to talk about. Having run out of things to say several days ago, he spent that day's stint reading out the racing results in a flat monotone, while Gene swallowed some food and then tried to doze, fidgeting uncomfortably in his chair.

_Bloody useless waste of space. How the hell does he think she'd want to wake up if all she's going to hear is Lady Di 6-1, Arthur's Boat 11-2, Speeding Bullet 9-4 favourite, 6 ran?_

_Got to say something she wants to hear. Which means that if Luigi and the others are right, I could either make a complete twat of myself or, please God, I might, just might hit the jackpot._

_It's worth a go. Anything's worth a go, now. Anything._

But when Ray had gone and Gene was at his post again, he found it impossible to start. Part of it, he knew, was due to a lifetime's inability to express his feelings, but part of it was due to his surroundings. If he was going to say what he felt for her at last, it couldn't be while nursing staff were scurrying in and out and visitors were passing by her room. He told himself that he would definitely do it later, when he, when they, had more privacy. If he could stay awake that long. For the moment, he kept to subjects he had covered already, wearily going over the same ground again and again until salvation, in the welcome shape of Shaz, arrived at 5.30.

"I'm going to make a long evening of it, if that's all right with you, Sir. Chris told me this morning how tired you were looking, so I've arranged with him that he'll come at 11.00 to see me home. Give you a chance to get a few hours' decent sleep while I'm here."

"Thanks, Shaz, but you don't 'ave to stay that long."

"I know I don't have to, Sir, but I'd like to, if you'll let me. Pardon me for saying so, but there's no point in your being ill as well. The hospital might send you home then."

It went against the grain, but Gene allowed himself to be persuaded. _You haven't said so, but I'd bet Maggie Thatcher's corset that Chris has told you what he told me this morning. _

Shaz somehow managed to find some spare bucket chairs and set them out in a row. Gene draped his long frame along them, covered himself over with his coat, and sank into a deep sleep, secure in the knowledge that Shaz would awaken him if he were needed.

_Shaz calls Bolly her guardian angel. Reckon she's our guardian angel now._

It seemed like no time at all before Shaz was gently shaking his shoulder.

"Sorry to wake you, sir, but it's 11.30. Chris isn't here, so I phoned the station. They've all been called out on a drug bust. I'll get a cab home."

He hauled himself upright, rubbing his eyes. "Thanks, Shaz. No change?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"No, I know you'd 'ave woken me if there was. Off you go, an' 'ere's a tenner for the cab."

"Thanks very much, sir. I've got you some coffee. You'll need it if you want to stay awake all night."

_Now how did she know I want to stay awake tonight? Sometimes I think she's psychic._

"Thanks for everything, Shaz. See you tomorrow, an' tell Ray an' Chris, if they cock up the bust I'll play golf wi' their balls."

"I'll be sure to do that, sir. Good night."

He took his place in the chair by the bed and listened to the sound of her footsteps dying away down the corridor. The hospital was quiet. If ever he was going to have an opportunity to say what he wanted to say without interruption, this was it.

_Could be my only chance. Her only chance._

He picked up her delicate hand from where it lay on the coverlet and held it closely between his, as though he would transmit his own abundant life force into her.

_Go for it._

He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

**TBC**

**A/N: Chris's description of Alex's visit to Shaz in hospital refers to a scene which was deleted from Series 1, Episode 8 but is among the extras on the DVD boxed set.**


	7. Monologue

**Disclaimer: BBC, Monastic and Kudo own Life on Mars, Ashes to Ashes and everything pertaining thereto. Me, I just own my poor mad brain and the ideas in it.**

**Many thanks yet again to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. Please keep those reviews coming in, I do appreciate them so much!**

**Now we find out what Gene has to say for himself…**

"Sam always used t'say 'ow important it is to keep talkin' to coma victims, so that's what I've been doin' ever since you got 'ere. I've been 'ere talkin' to you for six days without you sayin' a thing. That must be a record. Never thought I'd sell me soul to 'ear you answerin' me back, but I would right now. The reason you aren't answerin' is that you aren't listenin' to me, an' God knows that's nothing new. But this time you've got to listen, Drake, because if you don't you won't wake up.

"Sam never said whether it mattered _what_ you said to try an' bring someone out of a coma. E just said, tell 'em not to stop talkin'. Said touch 'elped too, that's why I'm 'oldin' your 'and, an' I've been playin' all your favourite music. But Luigi an' Shaz an' even dopey Chris an' Evan bloody White 'ave all been tellin' me that there's somethin' I ought to be sayin' to you that could wake you up. Seem to think that this is what you'll want to 'ear. Don't know if it'll work, but I don't mind tellin' you, after six days of sittin' and sleepin' on this 'ard chair, eatin' nothin' but Luigi's takeaways, I'm ready to try anything, even this. So 'ere goes.

"I love y'Alex. Been a bloody fool - could 'ave told you any number of times when you could 'ear me. 'Cept that I couldn't. Can only say it now because I know you can't 'ear me. If you woke up right now, I'd be lookin' at the floor again, mumblin' an' unable to tell you what I want to say. I 'ate it, that you can do that to me. But if I told you when you could 'ear me, you'd most likely 'elp me to your left 'ook an' walk away, an' I'd never see you again.

"You've taught me 'ow to live again since Sam died. I know now, I was losin' it till you came. That's another thing I wouldn't say if you were awake. The transfer to London seemed such a good idea. I just 'ad to get away from Manchester - I kept seein' poor Sam everywhere, thought I was goin' mad, an' then the wife walked out. But once I was down 'ere, I felt lost. Not king of the jungle any more. Not just because they do things differently down 'ere, I'd lost something when 'e died an' I couldn't get it back. Then you staggered into me life in six-inch 'eels an' a two-inch skirt, an' you turned my world upside down. A posh, mouthy tart. I'd never met a bird who dared to defy me like you do. You've argued about every word I said. You've questioned everything I'd ever believed in as a copper. You've challenged me authority at every turn. I 'ated you for it at first. But, God, you've made me feel alive again. I know now, I needed someone I could argue with like I used to wi' Sam. You've made me fight back like 'e used to. I'll tell you 'ow you're like 'im, you bring out the worst in me but the best too. You make me try 'ard to be better as a copper an' as a man. That's 'ow you've changed me, Bolly. You've made me look beyond what I am, what I do an' what I 'ave. You gave me 'ope again. Now it's all been taken away by one bloody bullet, an' I never even told you 'ow I feel. I'd always 'oped there'd be time for that.

"So, you'll ask, given that we 'ardly ever do anything but shout at each other, when an' 'ow did I manage to - to fall in love wi' you? Still find that so 'ard to say. Well, there was that day we first met. July twentieth, that's marked on me calendar forever, red like your dress. Can't say I fell in love wi' you when I first saw you or any romantic bollocks like that, because then I thought you were a prozzie. Knew you were special, though. Different. Somethin' about you that pulled me in. Even when you started actin' like a fruitcake an' claiming none of us are real. You put your 'and on me' eart - God, I'll never forget that. To quote you, I felt we'd made a connection. Just didn't know 'ow to deal with it. Then when Shaz got you your clothes, an' you swanned into Luigi's lookin' a million dollars - I knew two things at that moment, one, that I 'ad to shag your brains out, and two, that I never will. You're somethin' for me to reach out for without ever actually gettin' it. That's why I was so disillusioned when you tried it on wi' me, that night during the Burns case. You weren't unattainable any more. You don't know 'ow much I wanted to take you up to your flat an' show you _exactly_ what I wanted to do during the last few seconds of me life. Been regretting ever since that I didn't, but I know we'd both 'ave regretted it even more if I did. An' if we ever did get together, I'd never want you to regret anythin' about it. I'd want you to come to me knowin' what you were doin' and wantin' it to 'appen, not because you were three parts pissed. Just wish I'd stuck around that night to stop that wanker in the red braces gettin' you instead. That was what really 'urt.

"Then when we got stuck in the vault at Edgehampton - that's somethin' else I'll never forget. I 'eld out me arm to you, an' you might so easily 'ave pulled away or smacked me gob again. But you came to me, you leaned against me chest an' put your 'and on me 'eart, an' you looked up at me with such trust. Just as if you were a child. Thought I was goin' to die, yet I was so 'appy, sittin' there in the dark, 'oldin' you. Would 'ave been one 'ell of a way to go."

As though from a long way off, she heard the voice she needed to hear. This was where she was meant to be.

"An' then when I got you out of the Cales' cold store. Remember that? 'Course you do. I'd bloody dreamt of carryin' you in me arms again, an' rippin' the blouse off you, but not like that, when I thought you were dyin' an' I was terrified I was goin' to lose you. But that's nothin' like 'ow terrified I feel now, sittin' 'ere wi' you. I'd never known anything like the relief I felt when you opened your eyes. Oh, love, you opened your eyes for me then, why can't you do it now?" He looked down at the hand he held, raised it to his lips, reverently kissed the slender fingertips, and lifted her hand to touch his cheek and temple. "You touched me face - like this. Never dreamt anything so gentle could 'appen to me." He lowered her hand again. "Doesn't feel the same when you're not doin' it. Shouldn't 'ave done that without askin' you."

Touch was the next sense to come back to her. The feel of soft, gentle lips on her hand. Of a strong pulse beneath her fingers. Of her hand being held securely, as though the holder feared that she might blow away. A feeling of warmth and safety. Her other senses focused on it.

"Really thought I might 'ave a chance wi' you after that. That was what gave me the courage to ask you to dinner. Then that bastard Gil Hollis 'ad to go an' ruin everything. I 'ad to do me job as I saw it, Bolly, an' it turned out I was right to suspect the little toerag. I still don't regret what I did to get the ska boys to talk. Disrespectful, system-playin', time-wastin' scum. I knew you disapproved, but I couldn't let what I feel for you stop me doin' my job. You may 'ave changed me, but not that much. Only reason I 'aven't put that 'itman through the cement mixer is that I've been 'ere with you all the time."

Alex's eyelids fluttered open. It took some time for her to adjust to the subdued lighting. _It must be nighttime._ As she began to focus, she made out Gene's golden head. He was bowed over her hand, not looking at her face. _How long have I been in this coma? Sam didn't tell me that. Have I come back in time to save him?_

"Still, you paid me back when you tried to wreck me whole operation when Scarman came. Still don't understand why you did that. An' then in the middle of it all, you actually put our date back on track. Last supper, you called it. Still witterin' on about leavin'. That was why I risked suggestin' that we went upstairs. Might 'ave known you wouldn't accept, but I 'ad to try. Thought it would be me only chance. At least you didn't seem to take offence. Then you changed your mind an' stayed on after all. Knew you were one of us again when we all met up at Luigi's to celebrate Shaz gettin' out of 'ospital. Unbreakable."

She could see him more clearly now. Not the suicidal, alcoholic wreck Sam had shown her, but the ruggedly handsome Lion. 

_I love him. I'll save him. _

She still felt too weak to move or speak. She lay there, gathering strength, listening, entranced, as he poured out words she had never dreamed she would hear him say.

"Little Shaz called you 'er guardian angel. You'd saved 'er life when the lot of us 'ad given up on 'er, an' all we could think of doin' was kickin' the crap out of Hollis. Because you wouldn't speak to me after that, I never got to tellin' you 'ow proud I was of you. Still am. An' in savin' 'er, you saved Chris too. If she'd died then, e'd 'ave gone on the skids. Just as I know I will if you don't wake up. There won't be anything else left for me. I know now, I can't live without you. Bloody waste of time. You saved me life, Alex, an' I should be grateful, but without you it'll 'ave no point. I'll only drink meself to death. I know meself well enough to know that. It'll just be a question of 'ow long it takes. I'll be waitin' till I can join you, wherever you go."

_Dear Lord, he already knows what would have happened to him if I hadn't come back. So what Sam showed me must all have been true. Including what would have happened to Molly. _

_I made the right decision. Thank God._

"Wish I knew who your guardian angel is. I'd ask 'em what I 'ave to do to make you wake up. If they said I 'ad to shoot meself to save you, then that's what I'd do. Because it should 'ave been me takin' that bullet, Bols. It was me they wanted. You were shot because of me, that's what makes it so 'ard to bear. I failed you, love. I'd give my life for you, so gladly. You do know that, don't you? That's 'ow much I love you. Gettin' easier to say it now. If you don't wake up, I'll lose the only thing I've got that's worth livin' for. An' what about you? You've got your kid to think about. Even if you won't wake up for me, you should be wakin' up for 'er. I've tried to find 'er an' bring 'er 'ere, Bolly, maybe you'd 'ear 'er when you can't 'ear me, but none of us know where she is. You never told us.

"I've 'ad to be brought to the edge of losin' you to know 'ow much you really mean to me. Christ grant that the edge is as far as we'll go. I can't lose you now, Bolly. I can't. I know I'm goin' mad. I can blame 'aving 'ad 'ardly any sleep and no fresh air these past six days. But whatever it is, I know that if - no, when - _when_ - you wake up, I'm goin' to ask you to let me take care of you always. I know, you don't look like you need much takin' care of. Independent, smartarsed, mouthy - but for all that, I don't think life's always been good to you, my love. There's too much sadness in you. Don't think I 'aven't noticed. You 'ide it well, but it's there. All that lip's your way of protectin' yourself an' fightin' back. Just like me wi' my fists an' me oneliners. We're two of a kind like that. We've both been 'urt. I want to try an' make the world a better place for you, Bols. I want to make you 'appy, an' if I can't do that, at least I want to make you feel safe. An - I 'ate sayin' this, but when you wake up, the Doc thinks you might need lookin' after for a while. Maybe for a very long time. Maybe for ever. An' if that 'appens, God forbid, I'm buggered if I'm gonna let 'em garage you in some nursing 'ome. They might think they can do what they like with you because you 'aven't got anyone, but they're wrong. You've got me. Whatever 'appens, I'm 'ere for you. Always." He lowered his voice. "An' if anyone even thinks of tryin' to turn your machine off, I'll shoot 'em. I've still got me gun. 'Ad it with me when we were goin' to Luigi's that night, an' I've been 'ere ever since. I'll see to it that you get all the chances you need to wake up.

"While you're still not listenin', I'll go for broke. When you wake up, I want to ask you to marry me. That's a laugh, eh? Why the 'ell would a posh bird like you want to marry a bloke like me? Beauty an' the Beast, hah!" He barked a short, bitter laugh. "But for all that I'll still ask you. Just so you know 'ow much I care, an' that I'll always be 'ere if you want me. I'm done with pretendin'. Maybe if I'd already told you 'ow I felt, you wouldn't 'ave been shot. You'd already 'ave left us long ago an' been somewhere else. Or if I got lucky, maybe we'd 'ave been in your flat or in me office with the blinds drawn. If I get another chance, it'll be more than I deserve, but I'll take it. But if you walk away - well, I'll just 'ave to live with that. I know now that if you're safe an' well, that'll be all that matters.

"Oh, Bolly, Bolly, love, come back to me. Can't do this any longer - " He bowed his head lower, and there was silence. Alex was astonished to feel moisture on her hand. _Gene? Crying? But he _never _cries_. A wrenching sob contradicted her. Suddenly she hated herself for having made him suffer a moment longer than necessary. She tried to speak, but her voice was a mere thread of sound, so faint that she could not hear it, stifled by the oxygen mask. She heard him draw a deep breath, resolutely pulling himself together.

"No." His voice was almost steady, but not quite. "No. If you don't come back _to me_, that doesn't matter. You can smack me gob again an' walk away into the sunset, just so long as you wake up. But I'll be 'ere for as long as it takes. I know the only thing that matters is that you open those eyes of yours an' say - _Bloody 'ell!_ "

He had raised his head at last and found himself looking straight into her brown eyes. His grasp on her hand tightened until it was almost painful, and she moved her fingers in reaction.

"Gene - " she said, or tried to say, but she still could not make herself heard. He saw her lips move, and hesitated, not daring to remove the oxygen mask.

"Bolly, d'you know me? D'you know your ol' Gene?" He glanced down at their hands. "Squeeze my 'and again for a yes!"

She gripped his hand, tighter and stronger than before.

"NURSE!"

The Lion's roar all but split the heavens and brought the young duty nurse running.

"Whatever's going on?"

Gene jumped to his feet, pointing to Alex with a shaking hand. "Look, look, she's woken up! She knows who I am - she was tryin' to talk just now - "

"DOCTOR!"

All at once the place was full of medical personnel clustering around the bed, all talking at the same time. Someone gently disengaged Gene's hand from Alex's.

"I'm sorry, Mr Hunt, but I'll have to ask you to wait outside - "

For once in his life, he did not argue. He backed out of the room into the corridor, hands uplifted, tears streaming unchecked down his face. Gene Hunt had never been a religious man, but at that moment he was praying to whatever deities might be listening, to spare Alex for him.

**TBC**


	8. Home

**Disclaimer: BBC, Monastic and Kudos own Life on Mars, Ashes to Ashes and all the characters. **

**OK, as some of you may have guessed, I'm one of those who treacherously hopes that Alex will** **stay with Gene at the end of Ashes to Ashes. This story is my way of assuaging the** **guilt pangs by thinking up a situation in which it would actually be better for Alex to stay with Gene than to go back to Molly. **

**Many thanks to everyone who's stuck with this story despite all the angst, and especially to my faithful reviewers. I know I've put us all through the emotional mangle. Some fluff mingling with the angst in this final chapter - I think Alex, Gene and we all deserve it!**

**Please continue to review, I do appreciate it so much - I'm about to go away for a few days, but I promise to reply to all reviewers when I get back.**

**With thanks to Katie Duggan's Niece for suggesting that Gene should be allowed to interfere with Alex's oxygen supply!**

It seemed to Gene as though he had been waiting for untold hours. He was later to discover that it was only about fifty minutes before a white-clad doctor came down the corridor towards him. He jumped to his feet.

"Mr Hunt." The doctor shook his hand. "Doctor Yeo-Thomas. You don't know me. Some of my colleagues have been dealing with Ms Drake's case. I just had the luck to be on night call when she came round."

"H - how is she?" Gene croaked.

"Well, I really don't know what to make of it. I haven't come across anything like it in the whole of my medical career."

_"What?"_

"Well, you'll be aware that my colleagues have been very uncertain about Ms Drake's long term prognosis. They didn't know if she'd regain consciousness, and if she did, they feared brain damage, possibly quite extensive. But now she's fully conscious, the injury is far less serious than any of us had supposed. None of her cognitive functions appear to have been affected. All her faculties seem to be in perfect order, and all her reflexes are working well. We'll have to do more tests over the next few days, of course, but at present there seems to be every reason to suppose that she will make a complete recovery."

"Oh, thank God," Gene whispered. "I mean it - thank God."

"Amen to that. She'll need to convalesce for some time, of course. You won't have her back on your team for six months at the inside, probably a lot longer."

"Never mind that now," Gene muttered, blinking back the tears that _would_ come. "If she's goin' to be okay, that's the only thing that matters."

"I don't mind telling you that I'm very glad to have been here to witness this. We in the medical profession usually deal in cold, hard facts, not all of them pleasant. Just occasionally, maybe once in a doctor's career, we come across something like this which can't be explained. A miracle."

"Thanks, Doc," Gene gulped, wringing his hand. "You don't know what this means to me."

Doctor Yeo-Thomas smiled. "Oh, I rather think I do."

"Will you still let me stay with 'er? Even now she's awake?"

The doctor smiled again. "Mr Hunt, I believe that only a fool would try to separate the two of you now, and my colleagues will tell you that I'm no fool. Go to her. She's been asking for you. She's a very determined lady, that one. What she wants, she's going to get, present company included. But try not to keep her awake for too long. She needs to rest. So do you."

"Sure thing, Doc. An' thanks again. I owe you a beer. No, I owe you a crate."

He shook the doctor's hand and turned away a moment to wipe his eyes. When he looked up, the corridor was empty. Gene squared his shoulders and walked back to Alex's room, straight and tall, his head held high, his stride long and proud.

Alex lay waiting for him. For fifty frustrating minutes the medical staff had shone lights into her eyes, asked endless questions, and prodded and poked her around like a side of meat, when all she wanted was to see Gene again. She dreaded that, if he was kept waiting too long, he would lose the courage to say to her face, what she had heard him say while he thought she was unconscious.

She smiled as she saw him come into the room. He looked as though he hadn't shaved or slept in days, but he had never seemed more handsome to her. Never more welcome nor more dear. Nor nor real.

_This will work. We'll make it work. _

The oxygen mask had been removed, and her lips shaped his name as he sat down beside her and gently took her hand in his.

"Welcome back to the land of the livin', Bolly," he said huskily. "Can't tell you what it feels like to see you awake again. Longest six days of me life."

"Is that how long I've been here?" Her voice was stronger, but still too quiet for him to catch.

"Can't 'ear. Just a minute - " He stood up, pushed the chair aside, and got down on his knees beside the bed, so that his ear was level with her mouth. "Try now."

"Is that how long I've been here? They didn't say."

"That's right. Six Godawful, bloody endless days of waitin' for you to pay me some attention."

"There wasn't any sense of time where I've been. But where I've been, what I saw - that's something I can never tell you."

"You daft tart," he rumbled fondly. _Still a fruitcake. Can't expect that to change. Don't know I'd want it to._ "Never mind all that. You're back 'ere now. Listen, Bols - the Doc says you'll need more tests, but 'e expects you to make a complete recovery. Might take a while, but you're gonna be okay."

"I know." She knew because Sam had told her that she would make a full recovery in whichever life she chose, but Gene naturally assumed that the doctor must have told her too. "Which doctor told you?" _If his name is Frank Morgan I shall scream._

"The one who was 'ere tonight. Doctor Yeo-Thomas."

"The White Rabbit?" Alex smiled again. "Maybe I really am in Wonderland."

"Come again?"

"I'll explain later. They told me - you've been here all the time, talking to me."

"That's right. Sam always said you should talk to coma patients, so I did."

"I interrupted you."

"Eh?"

"When I woke up. I interrupted you. Won't you finish what you were going to say?"

He looked wary. " 'Ow much did you 'ear?"

She smiled again. "A lot. Enough to send you down."

He shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "Oh, 'ell. Oh, _bloody_ 'ell."

"Condemned out of your own mouth, DCI Hunt. You can't deny it now."

"But you didn't 'ear all of it?"

"No. I came in after the start."

"You'll 'ave missed the important bit, then." He took a deep breath and looked straight at her. "I love you." He looked away again, but not before she had seen the fear in his eyes as he braced himself for rejection.

"I love you too."

"EH?" His eyes snapped back to her, wide with astonishment. Her voice had been so quiet that he thought he must have misheard.

"I love you too, you argumentative swine. You misogynist. You dinosaur. You Neanderthal. You Bonapartist. I love you."

He could only gaze at her, silent for once, as an unaccustomed smile slowly dawned across his face. Alex remembered camping in Scotland, as a teenager, in her other life, staying up with friends to watch the sun creep slowly above the horizon. Gene's smile was like that. Spellbound, she reached out to brush the errant lock of hair from his brow. That lock which had fascinated her for months. So many times she had longed to touch it but never dared. _But I can now. He's mine. _She shivered with delight, and her hand moved down to caress his face, as she had done when he saved her from the cold store. She smiled back at him as she felt the rough stubble.

"Don't you ever shave?"

"You know I do," he retorted with mock indignation. " Ray brought me in a razor. But shavin' 'asn't been 'igh on me list of priorities while the woman I love's been 'angin' between life an' death."

"You're forgiven. But tomorrow, do me a favour and shave _properly._ I don't like men with beards."

It was a measure of his exhaustion that it took him a second or so to pick up on the significance of that. "What about White?"

"Evan has never been more than a friend. It's taken you a long time to work that out."

"Oh. Good."

_I may never get him with his guard down like this again. Sam told me, it's up to me._

She continued to stroke his cheek. "While I've got you on your knees, you chauvinist, isn't there something you wanted to ask me?"

"Er - "

"Go on. I did hear that bit. Go for broke."

A look of pure panic flitted across his face and was gone. "Oh, that - "

"Well?"

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, but Gene, I heard you. Make the world a better place."

"I, er, I was goin' to wait until you were feelin' better - "

"Say it, you unutterable bastard."

"Okay, 'ere goes. Will you marry me?"

She laid her hand over his. "Yes, Gene. I will."

He looked like a man who had won the pools without having returned his coupon. "Err - why?"

"Because I love you," she said softly. "Because I know now how much you love me. Because I know now that we were meant for each other. Because I believe that, in this nasty, vicious, messed up world, you and I have a chance together. A chance of something special. Something that will last."

"But you've always talked about leavin'. To go to your daughter."

Much to his consternation, her eyes filled with tears. "Don't ask me about that. Please. I'll tell you someday. Not now."

_She must have had bad news just before the shooting and didn't tell me. _"Oh, love, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Don't cry. Doc might 'ave me thrown out if 'e knew I've upset you."

She resolutely blinked back her tears and he gently wiped the rest away. Her every fibre quivered at the feel of his fingers on her cheek. _Yes. I've lost Molly, but I still have this. Him. _"No, please. You mustn't go. You're all I have now. I need you."

He gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, sending further glorious sensations coursing through her, and looked at her with so much tenderness and concern that it caught at her heart. "Not goin' anywhere."

She managed to smile. "I've come home, Gene. Home is where you are, now. Where I'm meant to be. Always."

"Oh, sweetheart." He could not reach to kiss her lips, but he bowed his head to kiss the hand he held.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Sir - "

Both looked up. Shaz stood in the doorway, twisting her hands nervously. Alex grinned, realising that it must look to the younger girl as though Gene had been kneeling in prayer beside the bed.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I was halfway home in the cab before I realised that I'd left my bag under the bed. My keys are in it, and I can't get into my flat without them. I had to ask the driver to bring me back here." Her eyes met Alex's. "Oh, Ma'am!"

"Hello, Shaz," Alex smiled.

"Yes, Shaz." Gene was clearly embarrassed and tried to sound like his usual stern self, but, with that sunrise smile plastered across his face, failed dismally. "You can inform the team tomorrow that our DI is once again in the land of the livin', an' that she 'as demonstrated 'er complete lack of mental capacity by agreein' to become the second Mrs Hunt." He reached under the bed with one hand, the other still holding firmly onto Alex's. "'Ere's your bag. Now be off wi' you, my girl."

"Oh, Sir - oh, Ma'am - congratulations!" Shaz's face was one huge beam as she took the bag and looked from one to the other before she turned and fled.

_The world seems full of smiling people. Everyone so happy to have me back. And now I know I'm staying here, there's so much more I can do with this life. So much to learn, so much to discover. Just for a start, I must get Gene to give Shaz more responsibility. I'll develop her career. I've blazed a trail for women in the Met, but she's younger than me. Maybe, in time, she'll go even further than I do. We can look to develop other women officers. She'll help me drag Fenchurch East kicking and screaming into the 1980s. Oh, so much to do. And Gene... He and I have the rest of our lives to learn about each other. I'll never want to stop learning about Gene._

"Didn't mind me tellin' 'er?" he said awkwardly as he turned back to Alex.

She laughed. "It's one painless way of announcing the news to the whole of CID."

"Yeah, an' Shaz has been a proper little guardian angel since you came in 'ere. Been 'ere for hours talkin' to you to give me a rest. The whole team's been takin' it in turns to come an' talk to you. Luigi's been comin' regularly, an' White dropped in this morning. Been playin' all your favourite music for you, too. Glad you woke up when I was 'ere, though," he added almost shyly.

"I heard your voice, Gene. I came back to you," she said softly.

"We can thank Luigi for that, then. It was 'e who told me I should tell you 'ow I feel. Thought it might wake you up. Turns out 'e was right."

"Yes. But I was coming back to you anyway. From a very long way away," she murmured sleepily. "Further than you can know. An old friend of ours showed me what to do. You're why I'm here. I know that now."

His face wore its usual expression of having lost the plot once Alex started talking. "Bloody 'ell, you've only been awake a couple of hours an' already you're doin' my 'ead in. To think I've just signed up for a lifetime of this. Listen, love, we've a lot to say to each other, but thank God we've got time for that now. The Doc told me you need to rest. I promised 'im I wouldn't keep you awake very long. You should get some sleep now."

"Yes." She yawned. "So should you. You look as if you haven't slept for a week."

"I 'aven't, very much."

"Will you stay with me?"

"'Course I will. Try stoppin' me."

He released her hand, leaned on the edge of the bed, and heaved himself to his feet. His tie swung forward, tantalisingly tickling her face. She grabbed it and slowly hauled him in.

"Hey, careful, Bols, that's a very delicate appendage you've got there."

She grinned wickedly. "Come 'ere."

"Ah..."

Their lips met in a gentle, hesitant caress, his mouth tenderly brushing hers as though he was afraid that she might break. Her other hand reached up to entwine in his hair and pull him closer, and their kiss deepened until he pulled away.

"Sorry, love, any more an' I won't be answerable for me actions. Then the Doc'll 'ave me thrown out for ravishin' a helpless female patient."

"So gentle," she murmured, gazing up at him in wonder. "I never thought - "

"What?"

"That it would be like this. That - that you'd be like this."

"That's 'cos I want to look after you, Bols, as much as you'll let me. Never felt like this before about anyone. It was a miracle brought you back. That was what the Doc said. I never want to forget that, love. Never."

"Nor me..."

Her voice trailed away, and he saw that she was close to sleep. He pulled the chair as close as he could to the bed and gratefully sank into it. He laid his head on the mattress, where they would be able to see each other as soon as they woke up, and his left hand reached across to clasp her right hand. Her left hand reached out to caress the soft glory of his hair, something else that she had often dreamed of but never before dared to do, and she twined her arm around his neck.

"Nice," he mumbled sleepily. "Take it you don't mind me sharin' your bed, then?"

"It looks like the best we can do until I'm out of here. After that, it's up to the two of us. Good night, Gene, my love. Sleep well."

He closed his eyes. Hers stayed open a little longer as she watched him, thinking, remembering. She felt filled with a huge sense of the richness of life.

_I've been given the chance of another life. I'll take all that it has to offer. Thanks again, Sam. For everything._

The pain of loss was still raw, but she knew that she would eventually be comforted by the knowledge that Molly was safe in her own time, and that by giving up all hope of seeing her again, Alex had saved all their lives. She and the man whom she held, whose destiny was so deeply linked to hers, would sustain one another through everything they had to face, and at his side she would experience everything in this world to the full. Life with him would never be easy, but she knew that it would always be supremely worthwhile. Her daughter was lost to her. But Gene, so strong, yet as vulnerable as any child, had been entrusted to her by a dead man, and she would not fail either of them.

Drifting off to sleep, Gene heard, or thought he heard, her murmuring words that he would hear her say again when she slept in his arms on their wedding night.

"Sam was right, Gene. Together, we can reach for the stars."

**THE END**

**A/N: Wing-Commander F. F. E. Yeo-Thomas, codenamed "The White Rabbit", was a prominent SOE agent in Occupied and Vichy France during World War II.**


End file.
